


Your Grace Is Wasted

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Let The Spectrum In [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Beyond-canon-typical violence in final chapter, Four fluffs and an angst is my fav way of doing a five things, Gen, Humor, Now includes Kidfic, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Violence, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:11:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7381330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times that no one was thinking of Shiro as a dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:
> 
> Slight spoilers ahead, just in case anyone is reading without having seen the whole series.
> 
> Each time will be it's own chapter, because together they were starting to be a bit long. I'll be updating once per day. Also, apologies for any typos or mistakes. I haven't had it looked at by anything other than spell check. If you notice a problem, feel free to tell me and I'll change it.
> 
> On Pidge: I tend to go with Agender/Genderfluid, or Trans girl for Pidge. All we know on this is that she says she identifies as a girl, so I'll be using female pronouns. -shrug-

“There,” Hunk breathed, trying to glance across the room without making it obvious he was doing so. He wasn’t particularly successful, but the group wasn’t attracting too much attention anyway. It was an intergalactic bar of sorts, filled with all kinds of alien species, and without their armor, they seemed to be just another group stopping through.

Lance’s brows rose, then a smirk grew over his face. “Her? She’s cute.” Cute maybe wasn’t the word for it, with the way her clothes tightly fit her form and cut off strategically. She lacked anything that was especially feminine from an Earth-mammal standpoint - no wide hips, no breasts - but her face was delicate and she was draped in shining, colorful jewelry. More than that, there was a predatory grace to her, something that suggested she’d be in charge, and you’d be better for it. That you’d like it.

Pidge’s foot lashed out, knocking the foot of Lance’s chair, making it tip dangerously. His arms waved as he caught himself from tipping over, and he shot her a wounded look. “Cute for an intergalactic smuggler, maybe. Focus?”

“Smugglers can be hot!” Lance insisted stubbornly. “They’re all devil-may-care and cool. Like Han Solo.”

Keith snorted, dismissive and disbelieving, and Lance glared at him, instantly bristling. “It doesn’t matter how hot she is, we need the name of her supplier. So how do we get it?” His eyes narrowed past Lance, lips thinned. “We could just grab her and make her talk.” He pointedly pulled out his banyard and quietly set it on the table.

There was a moment of silence where the rest of the paladins considered the plan, but mostly disdainfully. Their target didn’t seem to be a good person, but she hadn’t done anything worthy of getting kidnapped and interrogated. Hunk in particular had a stubborn, unhappy set to his jaw at the idea, which was a good sign the plan was a bad idea, at least morally. Keith glanced around, seemingly oblivious to the mood of the group.

“Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves,” Shiro finally interjected. “All we need is the name, right? We have no reason to think she’s involved herself, and she has no reason not to share with a little persuasion.” He glanced over, considering, then tilted his head. “I might have an idea.”

Brows jumped up around the table and Keith slowly put his banyard back away, finally looking abashed. “What’s the plan, then?” Hunk asked.

“Give me a minute,” Shiro replied, rather than answer. He stood, nodded to them and gave them a stern look - stay here, do not go wandering around the bar. He especially pinned Lance with it, seeing him glance back toward the bar, and he visibly deflated. And with that, he left, slipping into a side room that seemed to serve as a bathroom.

The rest of the paladins glanced among themselves, frowning. “Does anyone have any idea what he’s thinking?” Hunk finally asked. “‘Cause I’m lost.”

“Maybe he’s...” Pidge paused, then shook her head. “I have no idea. I didn’t seem him bring anything...”

A minute later, as promised, Shiro emerged from the bathroom again, but looking different. The undershirt was gone, and the dark vest over it was hanging open rather than buttoned to the neck. His bangs were slightly mused and... well, his pants were always form fitting, all the better for fighting for. But the effect was a little different when he wasn’t near totally covered.

“Oh my god,” Lance murmured, sounding awed. “He’s going to seduce her.”

“Don’t be an idiot, he’s not going to-” Keith froze, voice dying, as Shiro slid in next to her, interrupting her conversation with another alien, smiling. She turned from her conversation, clearly interested in this strange newcomer, and they started to talk. “He’s going to seduce her.”

They watched in total silence for a moment, then Hunk glanced at the others. “Is that safe? Should he be...” He paused, as the smuggler reached out and held Shiro’s jaw in two of her fingers (or what looked like fingers), tipping his head up to meet her taller height. He smiled back, almost shy. “Oh my god.”

“It was safe for you and Shay,” Pidge replied, barely loud enough to be heard, and Hunk scowled at her. “And he’s not going to do anything, c’mon. He wouldn’t leave us here for that.” 

The smuggler let go of Shiro’s chin and ran a hand through his hair. He moved with it, almost cat-like, and she smiled at him. A comment he made must have been a joke, because she pulled her hand away and laughed, then leaned back, seeming to fall into a more comfortable posture as they talked.

Less than ten minutes from sitting down, Shiro gave a final smile then stood. She smiled back, distinctly flirty, and when he turned, she reached out and pinched his ass. He jolted and went a bright, clearly visible pink.

“Oh my god,” Lance repeated, more quietly than before. “She’s seducing him.”

They glanced between them, a moment of shared almost-discomfort. They’d seen Shiro in a lot of ways, but blushing while a 8 foot tall alien woman pinched his ass was a new one. Blushing period was rare enough, but this...

Shiro walked off in a different direction from them and stayed away until the smuggler was occupied with a new target (“new boytoy”, Pidge muttered, making Hunk cough in a mix of surprise and laughter). Then he wrapped around to meet them. “I got the name. Ready to go?”

For a moment, all four of them just stared at him. He stared back, the usual, unflappable Shiro. Finally, the silence went on too long, and he glanced around. “What?”

“You-” Lance pointed at him. “That was...”

“Efficient,” Keith cut in, looking mostly impressed, though there was a hint of a blush over his cheeks too. “That was much faster than kidnapping.”

Shiro just looked amused. “Keep that in mind next time you want to kidnap someone.” Keith just nodded, like it was any of Shiro’s life advice. “C’mon, is it really that weird that I know how to flirt?”

“No,” Hunk replied, at the same time that Pidge said, “Yes.” They glanced at each other, then Hunk nodded. “A little. You just seem so... straight-laced. This is....”

Snorting, Shiro gestured for them to follow, and they finally stood and started to make their way out. “I did have a social life, once upon a time. I used to sneak out of the Academy once in awhile and go to that little town a few miles up the road. They had some interesting bars.”

Lance looked delighted, and he shook Hunk’s arm. “I told you we should have snuck out more!” He practically glowed from the knowledge that Shiro had once gotten up to the same trouble he tried to get into.

Groaning, Hunk shot Shiro a wounded look. “Did you have to tell him that?”

“Sorry,” Shiro replied, only sounding amused. “Now, c’mon. We have a quintenscence supplier to catch.”

Reminded of their job, the paladins subsided (as much as they ever did).

But after, it was hard to look at Shiro’s outfit and see it the same way.


	2. Second Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alien goop: It's what's for dinner

Getting the Galra off this planet had been surprisingly easy. It wasn’t a strategic location, and it didn’t have much in the way of interesting resources, so Oannes had only enough of a military presence to let everyone know the Galara were still in charge. 

Really, the reason they had even come was because it was so close to another planet, one that seemed to run supply shipments between Galra forces. That had been a much harder fight, but they hadn’t wanted to leave another planet with possible reinforcements so close at hand to simply take it back over.

But the Oannian people seemed to be a remarkably adaptable, joyful bunch. Probably due to not being as heavily policed by the Galra, they were simply happy to be free, and took the chance to throw a big party, complete with food, drink (which they had been firmly ordered to avoid), and dance. 

Since the Castle had been damaged freeing the trade planet, Allura and Coran were occupied getting it back up and ready to fly back out. Instead, the planet’s leader had latched onto Shiro and dragged him to the main building for dinner and gossip on the rest of the universe. It had been enough interesting information that Shiro hadn’t wanted to refuse, and the culture of the people said that the leaders dinner should be as private as possible, so he’d gone alone, though with his helmet and armor on him, and with considerable reluctance.

It had been tense, at first. No one liked being split like this, especially with what had happened when they’d opened their own castle for a party. But the castle itself was secure and the people seemed friendly, if a bit too eager to have an excuse to party.

With the drink off limits, and the food more like anything Coran made to be worth eating, that meant the remaining paladins had mostly be involved with the dancing and festivities. Lance had been whirled away eagerly between two of the Oannians, both slender and smiling, and was being dance-passed between them both. He seemed delighted by the treatment, laughing and joking with them both. Keith had declined any invitations to dance or even talk. He was hovering nearby Lance and his partners, scowling darkly. When Pidge had asked, Keith had insisted he was making sure Lance wasn’t going to get dragged away and have his lion stolen again. Pidge had her doubts.

She and Hunk had joined a group of Oannians as they sat and listened to a storyteller. It was an elaborate, practiced routine, with props and sashes that made environments and figures. Hunk was absorbed in the story, legs tucked up to his chest and arms wrapped around them as he watched, wide-eyed. Pidge had found it interesting, but now she had pulled out a tech pad, listening with one ear as she fiddled with plans for a future tech build.

“There you are,” someone said, and Pidge barely had time to glance up and see Shiro before he sat heavily near her. He leaned over, like he was glancing at what she was up to, but then kept going, until all his weight was leaning on her shoulder. With a squeak, she lost her balance and tumbled onto her side, nearly dropping the pad onto the dirt.

A few Oannians glanced at them, glaring for interrupting the story, but Pidge was more worried about squirming her way free of Shiro’s weight. “What’s with you?” She hissed, trying to keep her voice low before they got more than glares.

“Hm?” He tilted his head up, and even in the minimal lighting of the hanging lanterns, she could see how blown his pupils were. “Oh. Yeah. Food.” He flapped a hand at her as if that explained everything.

By now, Hunk had finally drawn his attention away from the story and was staring at where Shiro was sprawled out. “Uh... are you okay?”

Shiro picked his head up and smiled, huge and loosely, at Hunk. “Hey. You look funny from here.”

Sharing a worried glance with Hunk, Pidge put on her helmet and wrapped her arms under Shiro’s arms, lugging him up and away from the group. “Allura? Coran?”

“Yes?” Coran answered, voice muffled, and though there was no video, Pidge suspected he was holding some kind of tool in his mouth. “Is something wrong?”

“Shiro is acting weird,” Pidge replied. “I think they did something to him.”

Shiro shook his head and tilted it back, trying to stare up at Pidge. “Nah. M’fine. Feels good.”

There was silence on the intercom. The microphone was no doubt strong enough to pick up Shiro’s slurred voice, less than a foot from Pidge’s own open helmet. “We’ll be right there,” Allura replied, voice suddenly hard.

With them on the way, Pidge felt a little better, but it was still worrying to see Shiro so boneless and strange. He seemed sick. Or maybe-

“Is Shiro drunk?” Lance asked, wandering over, Keith following closely behind. He looked mostly amused, but there was a tension in his arm, hand hovering over the banyard, that suggested he was worried too. “After all that about ‘don’t you drink, Lance. It’s not responsible. We’re paladins, we can’t do such things.” His voice dropped, going deep and authoritative.

Shiro pouted. Pidge nearly dropped him in shock. “Didn’t drink. Just ate.” His nose crinkled. “It smelled bad.”

Shivering, Hunk nodded. “Yeah, didn’t taste good either. I only managed a mouthful.” He reached down and pulled off his glove, pressing it to Shiro’s forehead. “He feels a little hot, but not, like, sick.”

“Ahh, there is where he got to!” A voice boomed, and they all turned to stare at the leader of the Oannians, Nem. He looked like nothing so much as a viking, huge and broad, with thin, wirely looking tendrils tied up in a great beard-alike under his face. The people all tended to be tall, though rarely as broad as Nem, and he was the only one colored the deep, rust color, compared to the cooler coloring of the rest. “He slipped out why my back was turned. I’m glad you’ve found him.”

In one, abrupt move, the paladins clustered around Shiro, who just waved cheerfully at Nem. Keith activated his banyard and held the sword up, aimed right at Nem’s chest. “Don’t come any closer.”

Nem stared at them, seeming shocked and a bit put out by the behavior. “None of that! I mean him no harm.”

“Then why’s he like this?” Hunk demanded, jaw set and arms crossed angrily. He took a step forward, half-blocking Shiro and Pidge with the same stubborn defensive position that he took in his bulkier lion. “And why’d he need to sneak away?”

“Was bored,” Shiro replied. He was still sprawled out loosely, barely reacting to the tense, angry atmosphere. “I’m a pilot, not a diplomat. Shouldn’t be doing it. So I left.”

Rather than look insulted, Nem laughed, huge and loud. “You are much more amusing now then when you were being polite, Paladin! I wish you had been honest before you ate the food, it would have been a more enjoyable conversation.” Keith’s sword didn’t move an inch, and Nem finally sighed and grew more serious. “My apologies, I did not know your species would have such a reaction to our food. There are those who find the ingredients intoxicating, though they are rare, and it had been so long that I did not think to warn you.”

“So he is drunk,” Lance replied, brows up. He glanced down at Shiro, smirking. “I thought you were Mr. Cool Social Life at the Bars. So much for that, if your tolerance is this low.”

Shiro eyed Lance and snorted. “I didn’t go to get drunk. I wasn’t an idiot, I had to be back by morning.” His head fell back limply on Pidge’s shoulder. “I went to get laid.”

Everyone froze and turned to stare at Shiro. He stared back, one brow raised, then burst into loud, snorting laughter. Nearly giggles.

“I don’t think I like this,” Hunk murmured, eyes wide.

“I think I love this,” Lance whispered back, eyes sparkling.

In response, Shiro glanced at Lance and then waggled his brows. Lance choked shocked at the gesture, and Shiro laughed again.

“Paladins,” Allura’s voice rang out, echoed in Pidge’s helmet. She tried to free one hand to take it off, but Shiro slumped alarmingly, too heavy for one arm, and she had to scramble to catch him again. “We heard the problem.” Turning to face Nem, she gave a nod, though it was noticeably cool. “Thank you for your hospitality, but I believe we need to retire.”

Nem nodded. “I understand. He should be right as rain in the morning.” He paused, then smirked. “Well, by the next. When he wakes he may suffer, but it’s all part of the fun.” Bowing to them, he swept off, immediately surrounded by his people and dancers.

Allura watched him, eyes sharp, and then turned to face Shiro and Pidge. Immediately, her gaze softened. “Do you need help, Pidge?”

“He’s heavy,” she replied, voice strained. 

“You’re just little,” Shiro replied easily. “I’m not... hm.” He wiggled his metal arm. “Maybe I’m a little heavy.”

Sighing, Allura bent down and picked up Shiro, easily as if he’d weighed nothing. “We’ll take him back to the castle and get checked up. I don’t trust his word on this.”

“Oooh,” Shiro murmured, staring up at her, then at the ground. “This is nicer than walking. I like this.”

The other paladins shared a confused (and, in the case of Lance, delighted) look.

The trip back was quick, and soon they had Shiro sitting down comfortably as Coran scanned and tested him. “All seems well here,” he reported, back to his usual cheer. “Just your average, run of the mill intoxication. He’ll probably have a serious hangover come morning, but that’s how it goes.” He smacked Shiro ‘comfortingly’ on the shoulder, sending him jostling forward. “Put some hair on that chest of yours!”

“So, what now?” Keith asked. “Should we put him in the pod?”

“Goodness, no,” Coran replied. “Well, I suppose you could, but all he’ll do is sleep it off. I’m sure he can do that much more comfortably in his own rooms.” He waved a hand dismissively. “We still have repairs to get done before we can leave, but we’ll be ready come morning. You can all feel free to go rest up. You’ve certainly earned it.”

Pulling off the patch that had been tracking his heart rate and temperature, Shiro stood and nodded. He looked distinctly wobbly on his feet, but stayed upright and almost looked himself. But when he took a step, he leaned suddenly sideways, and only caught himself by wrapping an arm around Hunk’s shoulder and neck. “Oh. Sorry.”

“S’fine. I’m fine,” Hunk groaned back, voice slightly choked by the grip Shiro had on him. Once Shiro straightened back up, he patted the metal shoulder comfortingly, but used the other hand to rub uncomfortably where he’d been grabbed. “C’mon, let’s get you somewhere cozy. Your bed probably sounds pretty good to you right now, huh?”

Suddenly stopping, Shiro dug in his heels, dragging Hunk to a halt as well. “No,” he replied, drawing out the word. “Not there. It’s quiet.”

There was silence for a moment. Lance opened his mouth, looking curious, but Pidge elbowed him and he subsided. “Alright, no bed. We’ll hang out instead. Right?” Lance glanced around, lips thin and disapproving at anyone who might object, though no one did. He moved, slipping under Shiro’s other arm, and helped Hunk steady him. “We’ll all hang out in the rec room and watch one of Pidge’s illegal movies.”

Pidge huffed, but it sounded like a laugh. “They’re not illegal here. I’m not in anyone’s jurisdiction anymore, so I can download whatever I want.”

The group of them half-dragged Shiro with them and settled him down comfortably as possible. Then they got into a predictable but mostly fond argument over what movie to play. Despite the teasing she got, Pidge hadn’t downloaded that much, and certainly hadn’t had it on her when they went off on their adventure, so their choices were pretty limited. Usually, the tried to conserve movies for certain days, so they didn’t wear them out too quickly. After all, no one knew how long it would be until they had something new. It was finally decided that they’d watch one of the animated movies they’d seen before, and in minutes it was playing on a floating, curved screen in the middle of the room.

Hunk sprawled out comfortably on one corner of the couch, surrounded by pillows, while Lance laid out sideways against him, one foot resting on the cushions and the other braced on the floor. Next to him, Shiro was settled where they’d placed him, with Pidge taking up the other armrest. Keith hovered at the edge of the room, looking like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to join them or not. Or if he’d be welcomed.

Glancing over, Shiro tilted his head at him, the reached out one hand. “C’mere.” He gestured for him to come closer, expression hardening and becoming more serious.

For a moment, Keith just stared, then stepped forward cautiously. The second he was close enough, Shiro reached out and snagged his arm, then physically dragged him down to sit next to him. Right onto Lance’s leg, who yelped and draw back like they’d tried to break it. After a second, he set his jaw and aggressively shoved it right back where it’d been, this time on Keith’s thigh.

Keith sat stiffly for a moment, then glanced at Shiro again, who smiled back easily. Slowly, he relaxed back and even seemed to be absorbed into the movie.

Beaming, Shiro turned to Pidge next, and repeated the gesture with his other hand. Staring back, Pidge pressed her lips together and shook her head. Slumping, Shiro gave her a look that could only be described as puppy dog eyes, and she sighed and squirmed closer.

Shiro wrapped his arm around Pidge and tugged her close. Then he paused, like he was calculating something, then rested his chin on top of her head. “Good height.”

“Glad to help,” Pidge drawled back, expression deadpan. But she quickly relaxed too and started to watch the movie.

In the morning, that was how Coran and Allura found them - sprawled out on the couch, most in the process of either falling off or slumping on top of someone else. And if during breakfast, the younger paladins were a bit noisy with their plates and glasses around the green-looking Shiro, no one pointed it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm here for any and all ridiculous planet-of-the-week tropes. 
> 
> Also, I doubt anyone will pick up the reference in this one, but if you do, know that I love you.


	3. Third Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Includes lots of Shiro and very little towel.

As far as Lance was concerned, this had gone way better than the last time the Castle of Lions had been invaded. But that also wasn’t saying much.

They’d stopped on a quiet planet to give the castle a break as they checked over the systems. It seemed like it was constantly in the slow process of breaking, between their battles and it’s age, but it wasn’t like there was much they could do about it. They were getting better with their Lions and Voltron all the time, but in the end they were still just five people, and the castle could still eat up more hits than the rest of them combined. More often than that, that was the difference between life and death for them.

The plan had been to just pause for a few scans, but then the console had started flashing and come up with at least a dozen error codes. Coran had let out a string of words that definitely sounded worse than _Quiznak_ , and had called for Pidge and Hunk. Several hours into that, the three of them had been covered in what looked like a mixture of grease and smoke, and had informed everyone that it’d be another couple of days.

Which was boring. But boring, sometimes, wasn’t the worst thing. They’d been in one thing after another recently, so he’d taken it as a chance to breathe. It wasn’t even full down-time, really, because with Pidge and Hunk occupied, Shiro and Allura had somehow teamed up and decided it was time to teach him and Keith a few tricks and work on teamwork exercises. Which had gone about as well as anyone could have expected.

It turned out, there was one little section of the gladiators that contained a nasty smelling black liquid, more like tar than grease. And when it had dodged from Lance’s shot and walked into Keith’s sword, that spot had been cut open. Then it turned out it was pressurized, and Shiro was exactly in the way of the spray.

They’d stopped with the gladiators for the day after that.

Shiro had reached up gently, pushing his now wet bangs out of his face, before more of it dripped down into his eyes. The stuff was so dark and thick it nearly made the shock of white match the rest of his hair. The rest of it splattered down his chest and dripped down the planes of his armor, like it wanted to turn all of it black. “I’m going to go clean up,” he’d finally remarked, tone nearly conversational, though the look he shot Lance and Keith was dry.

“Good idea,” Allura replied, taking a small step away from him. The tar’s... _scent_ was strong. “I think perhaps it’s time to try another strategy. Perhaps concentration exercises will be more effective.”

Shiro had wandered off, and ‘concentration exercises’ and turned out to be code of ‘space yoga’.

Space yoga was not relaxing when Lance and Keith kept arguing over whose fault wrecking the gladiator had been.

Allura had looked like she was two seconds from either throwing them out of the castle or kicking their asses when suddenly everything had gone dark.

Hours after the fact, Lance had found out that they’d been tracked (Again! How did they keep doing that?) to the planet, and a small group of Galra soldiers had decided that the better plan was not to just fire at the Castle of Lions, but to set off their own little EMP-bomb-thingy. The upside of this was that the Galra were limited to low level tech themselves. The downside was that, with their defenses down to a minimum while things were fixed, they were completely without technology. No Castle of Lions defenses, no gladiators, no helmets for communication. No banyards.

Then they’d been attacked.

Lance liked to think they’d put up a damn good fight. There were a lot more soldiers than there were them, and there had been a good few of them on the ground before they were overwhelmed and handcuffed. He’d been pretty proud of his own take down, kicking one soldier so hard they stumbled back and tripped over their other number. Annoyingly, Keith had done better, but he was also armed, wielding some kind of weird knife he’d pulled out of god-knows-where and used it to try and keep the Galra at bay. The only saving grace was that Allura was outclassing them both by a mile, tossing Galra into each other like they weighed nothing. And, you know, Keith was armed, so it didn’t count. If they’d both been armed it would have totally been even. So there.

They’d been carted down to the main control room, where Pidge, Hunk and Coran were already similarly restrained. The Galra leader seemed to be trying to turn the castle back on, but between the areas that had been mid-way through repairs, the EMP-bomb and Coran’s increasingly unhelpful and sarcastic sounding advice, they weren’t able to get anything activated. And with their own ship (and it’s crystal) parked far away to keep it safe from the EMP, it seemed it was going to be a while before they could do anything other than threaten them.

Lance leaned forward and caught Hunk’s eye. They had long since known each other well enough to be able to read little gestures, and it was going to come in handy now. Glancing around pointedly, he tilted his head. _‘Where’s Shiro?’_

A shrug in response, and a jerk of the chin back toward Lance. _‘I don’t know, I thought he was still with you.’_.

Since he couldn’t figure out how to say ‘Shiro went to clean up after we covered him in robot tar’, Lance just shrugged himself and shook his head. Brow furrowed, Hunk leaned back against one of the counters and sighed.

The leader tried to grill Hunk and Pidge next, but by that point it was hard to be intimidated by these particular Galra solders. It was pretty clear by now that maybe they could be smacked around a little - Lance was going to have a hell of a bruise between his shoulder blades tomorrow from when he’d been held down - but no one was going to be killed, or else they’d have tried something already. Maybe they had some kind of bounty on their heads? That’d be cool, in a badass outlaw from an evil regime kind of way.

Ten more minutes into failing to get the ship to come on (“Have you tried turning it off and turning it on again?” Pidge asked, dry enough to turn an entire planet into a desert), the doors opened and Shiro was shoved in. 

He wasn’t wearing his armor. He wasn’t wearing anything except what was basically little more than a hand towel.

Unable to help it, Lance let out a bark of laughter, but stopped when Shiro glared. It was just so _absurd_. Shiro was even blushing, so hard that the scar across his face was nearly invisible, and his expression promised immediate and appropriate retribution. Having given the same expression to plenty of his siblings in the past, Lance shut up.

Though, it was kind of hard to think of Shiro in the context of his siblings when he was looking like that. Lots of muscles. Lots of skin. Very little towel.

Okay, looking away now. It was focusing time.

Except for a little peek.

And no more! Focusing, now.

The Galra didn’t seem bothered at all by Shiro’s... state of dress, other than noticing he seemed uncomfortable and enjoying that. The dicks. (Lance’s amusement was _totally different_. He could do that, he knew Shiro and liked them. They were just asshole cats). And there was the usual back and forth about blah blah blah The Champion blah blah put you in your place steal your lions blah. Frankly, every half-baked Galra commander thought they were hot shit when they spat that out, and it got really tiring after a while.

Though, it felt a little different when Shiro’s straight backed, I-am-the-Leader reply meant he was shoving out his bare chest and tensing and he could see all those muscles moving and tightening and wow it was time to look away again.

He glanced at the other Paladins to have something else to look at, but that was hardly better. Keith’s gaze was laser focused on Shiro, and honestly Lance wasn’t sure if he was tense for Shiro, or if he was like, really bad at checking people out. He looked at Shiro like he looked at Lance while they were fighting. 

Huh. That was a thought he didn’t need to think on right now.

Pidge was looking firmly at the ceiling, almost managing to look collected, except for a hint of blush at her ears. Her brows were furrowed and her lips pressed tight, and her expression would might have seemed annoyed if she was actually able to meet anyone’s eyes.

Hunk was watching, and he managed not to make it creepy. Instead his gaze was soft, almost sympathetic, but there was a tenseness to his shoulders, like he wanted to leap forward and put himself between Shiro and the enemy. Lance was actually starting to get worried about that impulse, since it kept coming up more and more. It was one thing to do it when inside a giant armored space lion ship. It was another to do it when you were in just your standard armor.

On his other side, Allura’s eyes were closed, and her expression was still, other than a slight furrow between her brow. Lance had only seen the look a few times, but he figured she was trying to commune with the little mice guys to try and do... something. Whatever she was planning, he hoped she was managing, but he could see the way her eyes kept cracking open and she kept glancing over and then closing her eyes again like she hadn’t. Sure, Princess. Lance had seen that. He’d remember.

And Coran...

Oh, god. Coran wasn’t just looking. He was straining his neck over like he was trying to see under Shiro’s towel.

Lance fake coughed Hunk’s name, then jerked his head toward Coran. Following his gaze, Hunk looked then nudged him with his knee. And Coran went red but just shrugged, like he hadn’t just been being a _total creep_.

Finally, the lights flickered, and game on bright, normal green. And then there was the painfully loud sound of the defenses coming up. Allura beamed, which meant it was probably the mice who did it, even as the Galra started to panic. 

With one sharp movement, Shiro broke the handcuffs (and for a second, Lance only thought _damn_ because shoulders, and in the next he thought _damn_ because that was useful. Then he remembered these were the low tech tie handcuffs, and was just normal impressed). His arm lit up purple as he socked the leader in the jaw. 

Allura was up the next second, having snapped her cuffs with similar ease, and went back to eagerly throwing soldiers around, now piling them up in the center to get caught, because it really was a nice way to deal with the lot of them. Right after her, Pidge stood comfortably, her bayard - oh, yeah, if the castle was on then the EMP scrambling or whatever was the problem would have faded - in hand. Keith was there a second later, using his own bayard to cut free, then jumping on the back of the Galra who had taken that weird knife of his.

Then it was just him, Hunk and Coran. And he’d be more worried out that, except that the rest of them seemed to have it under control now that they had the upper hand.

“So this is better than the last one, at least,” Hunk commented casually, moving his foot out of the was as a soldier crashed down in front of them, the victim of Pidge’s taser.

Lance nodded agreeably. “I was just thinking that. We’re all together, and no one is trapped outside, so that’s good. No nasty crystal, we have our weapons, and I’m not, you know, blown up.” He shrugged. “It’s annoying, and it’s going to delay us again, but by this point this doesn’t even rank on the list of bad crap that’s happened to us.” He leaned forward to glance past Hunk at Coran. “And we found out Coran is a weird old pervert. That’s useful.”

“I never!” Coran replied, sounding honestly affronted. “Slander!”

Snorting, Lance narrowed his eyes. “We saw you trying to peek, don’t even pretend. You wanted a little look, didn’t you?”

“Purely scientific,” Coran replied, nose in the air, mustache twitching as he thinned his lips. “After all, your species can be so shy about such things, and we really should come to an understanding of each other-”

Hunk nudged him again. “Dude, haven’t you ever heard of privacy?”

Going pink around the ears, Coran’s shoulders slumped. “Well, perhaps it was a little poorly done of me, but when the opportunity was right there...” A shout caught all three’s attention, and then looked up just in time to see Shiro duck a blow and kick out at the leader again, knocking him toward the rest of the shoulders.

And with the sudden, sharp movement, the knot at this hip started to come undone.

And the towel started to _slip_...

Shiro’s hand shot down and grabbed the knot, holding it all in place and yanking it back up to where it had been. He was bright red again, losing all the composure he’d regained when going back and forth with the leader. And the second the force field came up around the pile of groaning solders, he cleared his throat. “I’m going to go now.” And with that he marched out, without a second glance at everyone. 

“Be safe,” Allura called after him, looking distinctly pink herself. Then she put her hands on her hips and started to sort out the Galra soldiers, while Pidge worked to finally free to rest of them.

No, it wasn’t as bad as the last one. But Lance was never going to be able to forget that Shiro had a birthmark shaped like a fat ‘v’ on his ass.

He wasn’t sure if that was a plus or minus, honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think this is gratuitous and self indulgent, you're right. It is.
> 
> The Venn diagram of people Shiro knows and people who would go there if he was down for it is a circle, honestly.


	4. Fourth Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've seen Smol!Paladins, now prepare for Smol!Shiro

“I hate this,” Shiro informed them all. He was frowning darkly, arms crossed from his perch on the couch.

It would have been much more effective if it was from his usual, grown form. Not from a runt of a 6 year old, complete with the tiny, high pitched voice.

It was still clearly Shiro. He still had the metal arm and the same hair color, though the bangs seemed to fall in his face more at this size. It was just the little kid version, small, and no less upset for it.

Probably more, if they were honest.

“No one is happy about this,” Allura soothed, which was an amazingly delivered, bald-faced lie. As if she had not made cooing noises when they’d brought the shrunken Shiro to her, and as if most reactions hadn’t been some sort of open amusement. Frankly, little Shiro was really cute, and it was hard to take his pouting seriously. “We need you full sized to fly the black lion and form Voltron.”

On someone else, that might have been a bit insulting. We need to fix this problem so you can keep doing what we want you to do. But Shiro was... well, he was Shiro, and so he just nodded. “Right. We need to fix this.” His usual, in charge expression came over his face, which was hilarious on a six year old, honestly. “Why did the castle do this?”

“Can’t say I know,” Coran replied. “The pod has minor regenerative abilities, but it shouldn’t have been able to do something to this degree. Then again, abilities beyond the knowledge of science. The Castle of Lions is a miraculous thing.” He seemed cheerful about the subject, happily flipping through the scans. “It’s actually fascinating, you see, because-”

“So what do we do?” Keith interrupted, arms crossed. He took a step closer, hovering over Shiro’s shoulder. 

Huffing at the abrupt end to his ramblings, Coran stopped on one of the scans and started to pull up more information. “At this point? Let me analyze this a bit more. It’s possible it’ll just wear off. I need to get back to the pods to study the malfunction. If you’ll excuse me.” He stood and wandered off, muttering about configurations and testing.

Shiro took a deep breath, then released it slowly. He repeated that, then finally focused on the team. His expression was back under control as he sat down then slipped off the couch cushions. He had to crane his neck up to look at the rest of the paladins, hands on his hips. “Alright. In the meantime, let’s...” Shiro trailed off as he tried and failed to come up with one of their usual, useful activities that he could do at this size.

“We could do lunch,” Hunk suggested. “I was about to get started when all this happened.” He paused, considering. “We don’t really have anything kid sized, though. I’ll have to look around and see.”

Pidge nodded along, brow furrowed as she started to calculate the logistics. “Hm. A booster seat too. Do you know what we have, Allura?”

The princess paused, considering. “I know where it was once kept, but I don’t think we kept much inventory on equipment for children. There wasn’t much need.” She glanced down, eyes distant and sad, as everyone was reminded anew that there was no reason to need anything for the children of her species anymore.

“Right,” Lance spoke up. “You guys do that. We’ll keep an eye on Shiro.” He bent down and scooped him up. Shiro jerked in immediate reaction, but Lance adapted instantly, sliding a hand under his knees and propping him into a sitting position. He looked totally comfortable holding a small child, no doubt from experience with his own siblings. 

After a moment, Shiro grabbed at Lance’s shirt with his natural hand for balance and regained his cool. “I don’t need you to keep an eye on me. I’m not an actual child. And I certainly don’t need entertaining.”

Lance gave him a dry look. “You’re little. You do need help. Can you even open any of the doors like this?” All he got in response was a bland stare, Shiro’s jaw set stubbornly.

“You can at least put me down. I can walk.”

“Little legs are too slow,” Lance replied, far too gleefully. “C’mon, we can find something to do. Want me to read to you?”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “No, I can read ju-”

Stepping into their path, Keith held out his arms. “You go find something. I’ll keep Shiro here.”

“Why?” Lance demanded, clutching Shiro closer, who tried to lean back out of his grip. 

“There’s no need for him to go along. He’s better off here,” Keith replied. His eyes were locked onto Shiro, and he made a ‘hand him over’ gesture with his fingers.

Eyes narrowing, Lance snorted. “No way. Do you even know how to hold a kid? You’ll hurt him. Shiro should stay with me.”

Shiro sighed. “I don’t need to be he-”

“So you’re going to drag him around like a sack of flour?” Keith shot back, taking a step forward. “How’s that better?”

“Dude, you just want to carry him around. He’s better with someone who _knows what they’re doing_.” Lance matched the step, taking his own backwards. “I’ve got this. You go get something, then.”

Keith scowled. “It was your idea. And if you can do it, anyone can do it. People carry kids all the time, I won’t hurt him.”

The argument escalated in volume quickly. Wincing, Shiro reached up and covered his ears, then took a deep breath. “Cut it out!” Both froze and stared down at him, like they’d forgotten he was there. Shiro dropped his hands and frowned disapprovingly at them both. “Not only is this entire argument ridiculous, there’s no reason to get that loud.” Even at their worst, they’d never seemed that bad.

The pair shared a quick glance. “It wasn’t that loud,” Keith replied, though he did look contrite.

“Little kids have sensitive hearing,” Lance replied, serious rather than smug. “Alright, you stay here, Shiro, and we’ll go get something, okay? It’s probably best to keep from dragging you all over the castle. It’s a pretty big place, and even if you feel like an adult, you’ve got shorter legs now. It’ll take longer and you’ll get tired out more quickly.”

It was surprisingly logical from Lance, and even if Shiro hated being treated like he needed the help... he might well need the help. So he just nodded quietly as he was set down on the couch again.

The two wandered off, already discussing what would be the best things to keep Shiro occupied. He could hear the volume climbing again as they left, but at least the argument was away from him, now. 

Sighing, he leaned back against the cushions, reluctantly settling himself in. Really, the whole thing was ridiculous, because he clearly could take care of himself, size or not. But everyone had latched onto the idea so hard that he wasn’t sure it was some kind of emotional reaction, or if he was missing something. And he did trust his team to react rationally (mostly), and when they were all in agreement, it was hard to tell them no. It went against his instincts as a leader.

Bored and unused to staying still, Shiro considered breathing exercises to pass the time, but with Keith and Lance coming back any second and lunch being served soon, he’d just be interrupted. Glancing around, he noticed one of Coran’s tech pads left on the table. Shiro hadn’t latched onto the alien technology in the way Pidge and Hunk had, but, well, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He could spend some time trying to understand more than the basics of the castle, maybe spend some more time looking at the stats on the lions...

Picking it up, Shiro leaned back, propping himself up on a pillow and laying flat out. He used his knees to help hold the pad in place. At his usual size, the size and weight of it weren’t a problem, and his metal hand could still hold it fine. It was noticeably different from his natural one, a shrunken down version of adult proportions rather than the rounder fingers of a child.

Mentally shaking off the distraction, he turned on the pad and started to read.

It was boring. It was always boring, but now that felt like a bigger deal than usual. His attention kept slipping every few minutes, and he’d find himself flipping to another screen, another scan, just to have something new to look like.

Apparently six year olds weren’t the best at concentration.

Groaning, he reached up and rubbed over his face, frustration building anew. He was so useless like this. He couldn’t pay attention, couldn’t fly, couldn’t lead, couldn’t fight. What was he here for? Worse, everyone was so preoccupied by it, focusing in on him while he was weakened, distracting them from more important things that they should be worrying about-

The door opened and Keith and Lance spilled back into the room. Between them they were carrying armfulls of... stuff. A couple of what looked like books, not just pads, wads of paper and colored sticks that looked like they could double as crayons or colored pencils, something colorful and blocky that looked like some kind of game.

The noise made Shiro jolt, so lost in his own thoughts, and the pad slipped sideways off his thighs. He tried to catch it, and while his reflexes were still fast, his little fingers lacked his usual size and strength, so it slipped right out and smacked onto the floor.

Glancing over the edge of the cushions, Shiro could see his own six year old face in the cracked, black screen of the pad.

He’d been avoiding the thought all day, but looking at himself, he couldn’t avoid it anymore, just like he hadn’t been able to the first time he’d seen his changed hair and arm in the mirror.

Once again, his body had been changed without his permission by something he didn’t understand and couldn’t control. 

That felt like the last straw and horribly, embarrassingly, Shiro could feel his face crumpling and warming up. The view of the screen started to blur as water filled his vision.

It was so stupid. It was just a tech pad. They had way more of the things than the seven of them needed, and they were broken and fixed constantly. Worse, Lance and Keith were right there, and he heard footsteps that sounded like the rest were coming back as well. And judging by the total, uncharacteristic silence from Lance and Keith, they’d noticed.

Shiro curled in further, covering his face with his hands and trying to bend forward so they couldn’t see. He didn’t want to be doing this, because it was all so ridiculous, but he couldn’t help the way the tears leaked out or the wet, choking quality to his breathing.

A hand on his back made him tense, but he didn’t look up until he heard a soft string of words he didn’t understand. The hand started to smooth up and down, and he finally looked over at Lance. Shiro understood just a tiny amount of Spanish, enough to maybe get directions to a bathroom, so he couldn’t follow what he was saying. From the tone, it was probably reassurances. The words were soothing and homey sounding. Shiro thought that was going to make him feel better, to make him stop the damn crying already, but instead the pressure just came faster and more overwhelming. 

When he looked away, trying to control himself, Shiro spotted Keith bending down and picking up the pad, carefully putting it away, then worked on the rest of the table, rearranging and organizing. At first he thought it was because Keith found the situation awkward, but then he realized it was because he was tidying up, probably so Shiro wouldn’t feel like he had to.

That didn’t help his overwhelming emotions at all.

“Oh,” Pidge murmured, as she and Hunk re-entered the room. She sounded far too knowing and understanding, already figuring him out, and Shiro tried to curl up again, but Lance was still patting his back and murmuring to him.

Finally pausing his whispering, Lance glanced up and past Shiro. “Hunk, I think you’re up.”

There was a quick pause. “Really?” Hunk sounded shy, but almost happy about it. Confused, Shiro picked his head up again in time to see Hunk kneel down in front of the couch and scoop Shiro up. He didn’t hold him like Lance, in a sitting lean, but instead pulled him into a proper hug.

Hunk gave amazing hugs. Everyone knew that, because he also gave them out freely. But when Shiro was this small it was different. Hunk felt just as soft and caring, but also _big_. Protective and shielding and willing to comfort.

He heard murmured explanations, that it was a strange situation, that emotions were running high, that everything was just big when you were that size, including feelings, that all little kids loved Hunk. Mostly, Shiro focused on his breathing, smoothing out the snuffles until it was under control, then letting the tears run dry.

Once Shiro was calmer, he glanced up at Hunk, who just gave him an easy, warm smile. He didn’t look embarrassed or bothered, just fond. And that helped, somehow. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Hunk let him go and he stared at the floor for a moment, wondering how the hell he was going to lead them all after this. But when he glanced up, no one seemed pitying or bothered, just sympathetic. Oddly patient, even.

Looking out for everyone else often made Shiro feel more in control. It was a responsibility, but it was one he knew he could handle, and one that had immediate and usually positive results. Maybe it was the same for them.

Pidge gestured for him to follow. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up before lunch.” Shiro made a bit of a face, but it wasn’t that he needed to be told to wash his hands or anything. His face was probably a mess from the crying. So he nodded and followed along. Once there, she picked him up by the sides and set him on the counter, because he was too small to reach up otherwise, then leaned back and folded her arms. “You don’t need a babysitter for this. There are things you should let us help you with, but things we should let you do yourself, too.”

Shiro smiled. Independent, self-contained Pidge would get it. Keith would understand too, if coached to it, but Shiro suspected he was too personally attached to Shiro to think of it that way. “Thanks.” The washcloth (or, what served as one) was within reach, and he was able to wipe his face clean of tear cracks and get rid of all the redness. Within a couple of minutes, he looked like his usual self, or as much as he could. 

He hopped down and they went to lunch, and Shiro managed not to make a face when he was reminded to cut up the food extra small.

And then they all spent the afternoon with the would-be-colored-pencils, drawing to draw Voltron (and all failing pretty spectacularly). Shiro had spent worse afternoons. And he’d be reluctant to admit it, but it had been a long time since he’d had a better one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pattycake with a metal arm would be uncomfortable.
> 
> Also, accidental angst, sorry about that one. Next one's gunna be worse. Not sorry about that one.


	5. Fifth Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things you shouldn't see. Some things you need to.

All scavenged tech was Pidge’s territory. They all knew that, and they all knew why, so it went unquestioned when she took the latest recovered control panel with her to her workstation. She would open it up and pull out all the information she could, send anything about the workings or plans of the army to Allura, Shiro, and Coran, then would comb through it for anything else she cared to know about.

They also all knew that it was in everyone’s best interests to check on her once or twice a day. When she was shut up with the technology and no one to listen to, she’d been known to either forget about or ignore the passage of time. As much as they sympathized with her, it just wasn’t responsible to go more nights than necessary without sleep. Not when lives depended on their ability to respond and fly. Shiro could usually manage to convince Pidge to pause for the night, and Allura had managed a couple of times as well, but for the rest of them, it required a group.

Which was why Keith, Lance and Hunk all came in together. They found Pidge in the dark, illuminated by only the screen on the console. She was visible, but not what was playing, and the light reflected off her glasses, hiding her eyes. And she was curled in on herself, knees tucked up to her chest and head resting on her knees.

“You’re going to hurt your eyes like that,” Lance joked, hands in his pockets as he walked toward her. “And considering how thick those glasses of yours are, I don’t think you can afford that.” Reaching out to the control panel, he turned on the general lights.

That’s when they could finally see Pidge’ eyes, and see how horrified she looked.

Lance froze mid step, then glanced back. Keith and Hunk stared back, looking just as shell shocked. Pidge was combative, independent and sarcastic. For her to look so wounded, she had to have seen something terrible. And there was one good guess what.

Hunk moved over and sat down next to her, hand hovering by her shoulder like he wasn’t sure Pidge wanted the contact or not. “Hey, are you okay? Did you fi-” He seemed to catch something out of the corner of his eye, and then glanced over at the screen and went pale.

With that kind of reaction, Lance and Keith immediately piled in next to them and stared as well.

It wasn’t Pidge’s brother or father on the screen, like they’d all assumed. It was Shiro. Dressed much like he had been when they’d grabbed him on Earth, though one of the sleeves - the one on his metal arm - was gone. His hair had already changed color, but he lacked the scar on his nose.

And he was clearly standing in the gladiator ring, surrounded by crowds of cheering, raving onlookers.

Hand snapping out, Lance paused the video before they could see more than that moment. “Where the hell did you-” He cut off, and shot Pidge a spooked look. “How long have you been watching this?”

“Dunno,” she replied, voice rough. “Uh...” A press of the controls brought up a time stamp. “Almost two hours.”

The rest of them stared at her. “Why?” Hunk finally asked, his own voice cracked.

“Why didn’t you call us?” Keith asked, then paused as both Hunk and Lance stared at him instead. “What? Pidge shouldn’t be watching this alone. And...” He trailed off, looking confused. “Don’t you want to know?”

“No!” Hunk shot back, looking like he’d been slapped. “Hell no! Maybe it’d be good to know medically or something, but you’re seriously going to... to just watch this?”

“Not going to,” Pidge replied, jaw setting and head coming up. She met their gazes cooly, almost aggressively. “Have been. I want to understand. And if we know, we can help.”

Lance shook his head. “How is watching this going to help? And why the hell is this even on there?”

Tensing, Pidge glared at the control panel with sudden venom. “I think someone was a _fan_. They had a bunch of these videos. Mostly of _’The Champion’_.” Her lips curled like she wanted to spit, as if the words had left a horrible taste in her mouth. “And maybe if we know some of the stuff on here, we can... you know, figure stuff out on our own more. Not rely on Shiro remembering all the time.” Pidge’s eyes slowly tracked back to the screen. “And maybe it’ll help when we find more prisoners. We can help them more.” No one had to ask what prisoners she meant. Just because Matt hadn’t had to go to that one battle didn’t mean he hadn’t gone in again later, after all.

“And we all know how Shiro freezes,” Keith added, sharp and pointed. “It’s not like it’s subtle, when it happens in the lions. If we can predict what might set him off, we can keep an eye on him better when it happens.”

And they all needed to be prepared during those terrifying times when Shiro went utterly silent and unresponsive, even if for only a few seconds. When his part of the connection would spike and jolt for a danger that wasn’t present anymore, sending them all out of alignment for that one moment. Not only was it hard to compensate for the sudden drop in synchronization, it rippled through the rest of them, making it difficult to focus themselves.

“I-” Lance shot Hunk a last, helpless glance. Neither of them looked comfortable with the situation. But then he sighed and settled down for the long hall, and Hunk reluctantly did the same thing on Pidge’s other side. “Alright. Fine. Just a little, to get an idea. We don’t need to see everything.” He frowned. “He’s going to hate that we did this.”

Pidge and Keith shared a glance and nod. “He doesn’t need to know,” Keith replied, voice cool.

Swallowing hard, Hunk shrugged one unhappy shoulder. “I guess.”

Silence reigned, then Pidge turned the lights back out and restarted the video.

There was no sound. Either it was recorded without it, or Pidge had decided to mute it. The effect was eerie, but probably better than having to hear whatever it was the audience was screaming so viciously.

Shiro walked to the center of the ring. His gait was awkward, strained, and it was easy to see why when the camera zoomed in on him. Without sleeves, what was left of his arm before the metal prosthetic was red and swollen, with what looked like still healing gashes and cuts. That shoulder hung lower, like he was struggling with it.

“It’s new,” Keith murmured, and glanced at Pidge for confirmation.

She nodded, staring at the screen rather than meet anyone’s eyes. “It’s the first video where he has it.”

There must have been an announcement in the ring, because the crowd went wild again, and the far door opened. A creature scuttled out. It was hard to think of it as another victim like Shiro, not with the lack of eyes and the creepy way it moved, more like a beast than anything thinking. It dragged itself closer, and it’s mouth opened to show rows of circular fangs. It had easily a dozen arms, each whip thin and ending with claws, following down it’s body until the almost mouse-like tail. It didn’t seem to use the arms for walking, instead slithering along through the dirt. There was nothing else along the smooth body, nothing else to grab onto, nothing to target.

Shiro didn’t even tense as it was led out, or bother to hold up the weapon held in his natural hand. He just watched, expression dead and uncaring. The only sign of emotion was the way he held the new arm closer to him, favoring it.

The lights changed colors around them, and the crowd _howled_.

The creature lunged.

Shiro moved robotically out of the way, barely looking like he cared. That changed when the beast twisted like a whip, it’s back legs reaching out toward him, claws extended.

Dodging that so suddenly caused Shiro to crash into the ground, and even on the video they could see the way he paled when he landed on the metal arm. But he scrambled to his feet and rolled more smoothly out of the way when the mouth followed him.

If the creature had any bones at all, it only seemed to be in the arms. The rest of it could bend in any direction with startling speed and force, and Shiro was kept on his toes, dodging and moving and never remaining in one place long enough to be hit.

Until the tail managed to get behind him and smack the back of his head. Hunk gasped audibly, and Lance found himself clutching at the bottom of his shirt, nearly ripping it from the force. A glance around showed that Pidge and Keith were both watching intently, expressions set and bodies tense.

Shiro went down hard on his stomach, but managed to roll onto his back when the tail came back down like a hammer. Shiro’s chest and head were barely out of the way. But his new, metal arm wasn’t. It must have been too heavy for him to move quickly, not when he wasn’t used to it. And with that hold on him, the creature could swipe down at his face.

Shiro’s weapon came up, embedding itself into the creature’s stomach. But it didn’t get in far before the other legs grasped at it, holding it still and keeping Shiro from twisting or slicing it. That only left one claw close enough to swipe, and he tilted his head to the side. The beast didn’t manage to slice his eyes open like it had been going for, but it did dig into his nose and across.

Without more than a grunt, Shiro closed his eyes, looking almost resigned. The claw came back up, but then the beast reared back in pain as the metal arm glowed purple. It cleaved its way out from under the tail, leaving a huge, open gash in its wake. 

Still dripping with orange gore, the metal hand grabbed onto the weapon and shoved it up. The creature’s many legs weren’t enough to resist the enhanced strength, and it pierced straight through to the back of it.

Falling backwards, the beast writhed on the weapon, and if the video wasn’t muted, it looked like it would be shrieking. Slowly, shakily, Shiro stood back up. The wound across his face bled strongly, drenching the bottom half of his face in a near sheet of blood, but otherwise he was mostly unharmed.

The crowd cheered.

Hunk audibly gagged.

Reaching down, Shiro yanked out his weapon. Then he took a step back, and then another one. For the first time, he didn’t look just scared or resigned. Now he was determined, eyes narrowed and jaw set. He shook his head and shouted something.

The attitude of the entire crowd changed abruptly. They went from gleeful to furious, hissing and shouting.

“He refused to kill them,” Pidge explained, voice rough. “He does this a lot. Most of his kills were accidental. Then the guards- There are usually guards now...”

But no one came near. Instead, Shiro’s arm started to glow again. But he looked shocked and frightened by it, holding it away from himself awkwardly.

The metal hand opened, dropping the weapon and snapping into the straight palmed position Shiro used when attacking. Eyes wide with horror, Shiro grabbed onto the bicep with his natural hand.

It didn’t help. Even when he tried to tug himself back, to control the arm, to step away. Instead the metal arm sank into the top of the creature’s head. It seemed to crack open from the impact, and then squished, leaking mixed, goopy orange and white. A mix of it’s brains and blood.

Hunk reached out and smacked the control panel, freezing the video on Shiro’s look of pure horror, already bloody face flecked with orange. He scrambled over to the wastebin and everyone looked away as he vomited.

Frankly, Lance felt like being sick himself. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “This is... I can’t do this. How can you do this?” He stared nearly accusingly at Pidge, who just thinned her lips and stared back. “I can’t just sit here and watch it like this is some sick TV show!”

“Then go,” Keith replied, for once not sounding goading. Lance bristled anyway, but it was hard to maintain when he couldn’t stop shaking. “Seriously, it’s okay. Go. We’ll watch it and know. You guys get some air.”

Hunk pushed away the trash can and wiped his mouth. He was still pale and sick-looking, and he looked like he might need to throw up again any moment. “I don’t think any of us should watch this,” he told them, but it was quiet. He stood shakily. “Are you- you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” Pidge replied, shrugging. She tilted her head down, and her glasses and bangs obscured her expression again. “I need to know.” Keith just nodded.

Reaching out to Hunk, Lance rested a hand on his shoulder, making sure he stayed up. “Alright. Just... remember we need to be able to look Shiro in the eyes after this. Don’t make it worse.” With that, Lance started for the door, shoulders up and head down. Hunk gave them a last look over his shoulder as they left.

Pidge glanced sideways at Keith. “You don’t have to stay. It’s enough for one of us to know.” 

“I’m fine still. I can keep going.” He paused, then sighed. “And I don’t think you should watch this alone.”

Lips thinning, Pidge lifted her head high and scowled. “I managed just fine before you.”

“I-” He stared at her, then looked away. “You don’t have to, though. You can, but you don’t _need_ to. It doesn’t have to be just you. And-” He slumped and stared at the screen. “And I need to know too.”

There was a long moment of still silence, then Pidge nodded. Reaching out to the controls, she started the video again.

They stayed quiet, just shy of pressed against each other as they watched. When one flinched, the other was close enough to feel it, but neither commented.

They watched as Shiro fought each final kill, as the crowd began to expect and desire to forced victory. They watched as he became resigned to the lack of control, barely struggling.

They watched the moment he seemed to give in, and the transition between defeat and death was so smooth and quick that it was impossible to tell if it was the arm or it was Shiro. His blank, empty expression gave away nothing.

Finally, the videos ended. Turning off the monitor, Pidge flipped the lights back on, then met Keith’s eyes.

There was a moment of shared responsibility between them. This was their burden, something they could shoulder and make the team work better. And it was a heavy burden, but not overwhelming to them. So they would.

“Will you send me the ones you watched alone?” Keith finally asked. “It’s better if we both see it. More eyes to watch out.”

Pidge considered, then shook her head. “Watch it here. I don’t want copies of them floating around.”

Nodding his head, Keith stood, then offered Pidge a hand up. With only a moment’s hesitation, she took it. “Okay. Now, maybe we should get air too.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea. One second.” She powered down the machine and locked up her panel. It was a little paranoid - no one was likely to be snooping around in those files or her workstation. But it made Keith feel better anyway, just in case. He assumed it was the same for her.

When they stepped out, the castle felt strange. In the time spent watching the videos so intently and in such a dark room, it had become the world, if only for a little while. Stepping back out into their time was a readjustment again. Taking a deep breath, Pidge stared down the hall. “I think I’m going to head to bed. It’s been a long few days.”

“It’s been a long afternoon,” Keith agreed dryly. “You go rest. I need to...” He didn’t finish, just clenched and unclenched his fists, but Pidge seemed to understand. Sitting helplessly had filled Keith with a frantic, aching energy he couldn’t name. Doing some training exercises was the healthiest way he could think of to work it off.

The training room and their rooms were in the same direction, so they continued to walk together. And both froze when they heard Shiro’s voice echoing ahead of them from the rec room. “Hey, Hunk?”

Sharing another look, Pidge and Keith both stopped by the doorway, listening in.

“Yeah?” Hunk replied. He was clearly going for casual, but he just managed to sound guilty.

Shiro paused, the silence somehow cautious. “I talked to Lance. He seemed upset.” He paused again, this time dry. “Different upset. Not the usual. Did something happen?”

Hunk hesitated, then muttered, “no”, but it didn’t sound sincere in the least. Just guilty still. “Everything’s fine. We’re all...” He trailed off suddenly. “Shiro? You know how you said we can ask you for anything?”

“Of course,” Shiro replied, and this time he sounded worried. There was the creaking drag of a chair being pulled out as he probably took a seat next to Hunk. “What’s wrong?”

“I just... I could use a hug,” Hunk admitted, sounding stuffed up. “From you.”

There was another short pause, then shifting cloth sounds as Shiro leaned forward, and the slight mechanical noise of his arm. It was easy to forget about that whine. It was rarely audible, except in near silence. “Hey, seriously. What’s going on?”

Hunk took a deep, wet sounding breath. He was probably just barely managing to fight off tears. “Um. We went to check on Pidge. And we found some files.” Next to Pidge, Keith stiffened suddenly and took a step forward. She reached out and grabbed his arm, then held up one finger in a signal to wait. “And it was some footage from Galra ships. And I...” Another deep breath, this one definitely with tears. “I’m just glad you’re here, that’s all.”

“I...” Shiro sounded stunned, but then he trailed off. For a long moment there was nothing but the sound of both their breathing and Hunk’s occasional sniffs. “I’m glad I’m here too. Someone has to keep an eye on you guys. Imagine how much trouble you’d get up to on your own.”

Seeming to get his breathing and tears under control, Hunk gave a quiet chuckle, set somewhere between sad and relieved, but lightening. “You know we love you, right?” He asked, and even if they couldn’t see it, it was easy to imagine the soft smile he’d be wearing. “I know it’s not cool to say it, but, you know, I’m not very cool. So it’s okay. But we do.”

“What are you talking about?” Shiro asked fondly. “You’re the coolest of all of us.” Hunk laughed at that, the sound lighter than any other noise he’d made during the conversation. “And yeah, I do know. And you guys know I love all you.”

“Yeah. We know too.” Another silence, probably with Hunk grinning at him. “Alright, I need water. Dehydration is definitely not cool, and apparently I have an image to maintain.”

Pidge and Keith snuck by the open door while Shiro was still laughing at that.

When they came to the fork where they needed to split off, Pidge finally broke their silence. “Hey, Keith.” He glanced back at her, head tilted. “Thanks. You were right.”

Keith gave her something that wasn’t quite a smile, but could be in the future. “Yeah. I mean it, too. I get it.”

“I know,” Pidge replied, because she did. With a final nod to him, she walked away, and heard him going in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the direct result of the Voltron podcast interview with Josh Keaton, where he gave a few possibilities he was thinking about on what Shiro went through in captivity. So blame him.
> 
> There are a few things they established as canon in the first episode and then left out for the rest of the season. Shiro's arm noises are one of them, and it makes sense from a sound mixing/cost perspective, but it is pretty sad that we never hear more from it.
> 
> I also need more Pidge/Keith friendship. Or, hell, anything. But they really are the most similar of the younger paladins, I think. Other than a few points of moral contention (Big picture responsibility vs personal familiar responsibility), Pidge and Keith are almost always in agreement. Why is this not explored more yet, fandom? #TeamSavageAndRuthless
> 
> Then again, I might be the only one with basically a Venn diagram of all the younger paladins in all possible combinations. (And all I'll say on that? We never want an episode where Hunk isn't around while the other three work as a group. Never. Voted Most Likely To Trigger the Apocalypse tbqh)
> 
> As a note: I do plan on writing more in this... 'verse, if you can call it that. Continuity. I have several more Five Things either started or planned out that I'll keep throwing at AO3. However, at this time I don't plan on a +1 for this particular story, since the flip side is just, you know, all of canon.
> 
> Also, you can follow me at bosstoaster.tumblr.com!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Champion is Dead](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7550398) by [thedorkyastra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedorkyastra/pseuds/thedorkyastra)




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